A Month at Malfoy Manor
by MissWitchx
Summary: When her dad is taken hostage, Hermione volunteers to take his place as servant to the callous Draco Malfoy, a wizard who, according to legend, harbours a strong hatred for all those who do not have magic. / Beauty and the Beast AU


**A/N:** Hey guys! This story is a Beauty and the Beast!AU, in which Hermione is a Muggle. Thank you Ned and Sarah for being my betas :)

 **For the QLFC:** [Round 1 –Beater 1] Beater 2's NOTP – Dramione / liar / "If I'd wanted you to then I would have asked!" / The problem with people is they forget that most of the time it's the small things that count. - Theodore Finch, All the Bright Places

WC - 2988

* * *

 **A Month at Malfoy Manor**

She pulled her cloak tightly around her as she hurried through the woods, her breathing fast and her heart pounding.

"Dad?" she called, turning her head this way and that. It was useless; all she could see was white clouds of her breath and silhouetted expanses of trees no matter which direction she turned.

"Where are you?" she exclaimed helplessly, raking a hand through her mane of wild curls as she slowed to a stop, at a loss of where to go next. It was getting dark and she knew that the longer she stayed here, the more likely she was to get lost, just as it seemed her father had done.

 _But_ _he always travels through these woods,_ she thought _, he_ can't _have gotten lost._ Her stomach dropped as she began imagining the worst.

 _No. He must be all right; he_ has _to be. Think, Hermione._

Filled with renewed determination, Hermione surveyed her surroundings again, her heart leaping when she saw a faint glint of light in the distance between the trees. However, her relief was gone in an instant when she exited the woods and saw where the light was coming from.

She was standing in front of a pair of towering wrought-iron gates, behind which were elaborate gardens and an expansive path that led to a large and ominous-looking building. There was an odd sense of familiarity about the place despite Hermione never having been here before, and as she surveyed the white peacocks in the grounds and the building's spire-like roofs, she understood why.

The building fit the exact description of one she had read about in a book of folk tales, and unless she was very much mistaken, this was Malfoy Manor. Legend told that it was home to one Draco Malfoy: a self-righteous and hateful man who possessed extraordinary magical powers but was cursed to an eternity of isolation and imprisonment there after using magic to hurt several people.

Hermione shuddered. She had never believed magic could exist, but now that she was in front of what could only be Malfoy Manor, she began to feel very apprehensive. Draco Malfoy was said to be an avid hater of 'Muggles' — those who did not possess magical abilities — and Hermione had certainly never seen her dad demonstrate anything of the sort. A strong sense of foreboding overcame her as she pushed open one of the gates, realising that since Malfoy Manor was real, her father's disappearance couldn't be a coincidence.

* * *

"Dad!"

Tears sprung to Hermione's eyes as she entered the cellar, and saw her father chained to the wall. "Thank goodness you're alright; I thought he might've done something terrible–"

She stopped upon realising that her dad was opening and closing his mouth as if talking to her, but no sound was coming out.

"What did he do to you?!" she gasped.

'Hermione,' he mouthed. 'Go.'

"I'm not leaving you here," she said, ignoring her dad's silent but increasingly desperate pleas for her to leave. "I'm going to find a way to get you out."

"Is that so?"

Hermione froze at the sound of a slow, drawling voice. She turned, determinedly suppressing her fear as she came face-to-face with the man who must be Draco Malfoy. He was clad in a sleek black suit, hands thrust nonchalantly in his pockets. He regarded Hermione with a steely gaze, an arrogant smirk playing on his lips. "Good luck with that. Those chains are holding him by magic."

"Let him go!" Hermione shouted, her eyes flaring.

Draco laughed derisively. "I hardly think a filthy Muggle like yourself is in any position to be making demands. Do you have any idea who I am?"

Hermione bit back a haughty reply and took a deep breath, remembering who she was dealing with here. "What do you want with him?"

Draco's smirk grew at the sound of fear creeping into her voice. "Well, this Muggle here had the audacity to break into my house. I had half a mind to kill him, but then I thought I could use a servant around here."

Hermione bit her lip, looking helplessly into the terrified eyes of her dad and then back into Malfoy's cold, grey ones.

"Please don't do this." Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.

"What's someone like _you_ going to do to stop me?" he sneered.

"I-" Hermione steeled herself. "Take me instead."

"What?" Draco's mouth fell open slightly. This was the last thing he had anticipated.

"Take me," she repeated. "Take me, and let my dad go."

Draco cocked a brow. He couldn't comprehend why this Muggle girl would offer to take the other's place. Granted, the man was apparently her father, but he just couldn't understand why she wasn't trying to save herself.

"Suit yourself." He shrugged. "I get a servant either way."

* * *

"Granger."

"Ow." Hermione hit her head as she withdrew from beneath the dining table. "Yes?"

"After you've finished in here, make me a cup of tea and then clean the windows," Draco said. "Be sure to wash your hands first, and _do_ be more careful; that table's probably worth more than your house." He regarded her dirty clothes derisively before heading upstairs.

Hermione scowled at his turned back. She'd had just about enough of his attitude; she'd been cleaning non-stop for the past ten days and all she got in return were sneers and insults. Still, no matter how much she wished she could knock him down a peg, she knew she'd be at the mercy of his wand if she stepped out of line. Plus, she supposed she ought to be grateful; Malfoy had let her father go just as he'd promised. He was a lot of things, but apparently, a liar was not one of them.

Now finished with the floors, Hermione brewed his tea without washing her hands — he could get poisoned by her Muggle germs for all she cared — and headed down the corridor to start on the windows.

Being a servant to a colossal pig had its perks: he couldn't stand being in the same room as a Muggle, so spent all his time avoiding her, which gave Hermione free reign of the manor. Now that she knew magic was real, she enjoyed exploring, seeing what intriguing things she could find. Plus, this freedom allowed her to look for potential escape routes. She never had any intention to remain a prisoner here forever, and knew that once she left the grounds, Malfoy would be powerless to stop her from running.

She soon found herself in a new part of the manor and was flooded with excitement at all the new possibilities it could hold. She immediately abandoned the window she was cleaning to scope out the nearest room.

Once inside, Hermione felt her jaw drop. The room was stocked floor-to-ceiling with books. Forgetting about her escape plan, she walked towards the nearest shelf, almost as if by instinct, and ran her fingertips along a row of spines.

"' _Extreme Incantations'_ ," she read aloud. " _'Quidditch Through the Ages'_ — what's Quidditch? — ' _Moste Potente Potions'_ , ' _Guide to Advanced Occlumency'_ …" The list of strange titles continued, leaving Hermione speechless. A tingle of excitement shot through her as she realised: these were all books about _magic_!

She reached out a trembling hand and picked up ' _The Book of Charms & Spells'_, opening it to a random page. She didn't get a chance to read much, however, as she could hear approaching footsteps. Hermione slammed the book shut and shoved it back onto the shelf just in time before Malfoy's pointed face came into view.

"What are you doing in here?" he snapped.

"I- I thought I'd start cleaning in here," Hermione stammered.

Draco sneered. "If I'd wanted you to then I would have asked! Now get back to work; you'll live to regret it if I catch you slacking off again."

Hermione scurried away, unaware of the curious expression on Draco's face as he regarded ' _The Book of Charms & Spells', _which stuck out haphazardly amongst the others on the shelf.

* * *

To Hermione's surprise (and slight suspicion), Malfoy began to insult her less and less after that; in fact, he was borderline _pleasant_ at times. He had, on the other hand, started giving her more chores, leaving her practically no time to wander around. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if he'd suspected she was looking for a way out, and he was trying to keep her as busy and happy as possible to decrease the chances of her running away, losing him a servant in the process.

She never would have believed it if she knew the truth: that Draco had been giving her more tasks recently just so he had a reason to talk to her. He'd initially hated himself for it, but after spending so long in isolation, he found that he enjoyed having someone else around. He had also begun to care less and less about the fact that Hermione was a Muggle after discovering that she'd been reading his books. She was clearly interested in magic; she didn't fear it — or him for that matter — and that made her different from practically every other Muggle he'd encountered in his life.

Draco found himself increasingly drawn to Hermione as the days continued to pass, occasionally finding himself absent-mindedly watching her whilst she did chores, and by the time she had been his servant for three weeks, he wanted nothing more than to talk to her properly.

"Granger," he blurted out one day, thinking he'd finally worked up enough courage to do so.

Hermione blushed as she looked up at him; had he been watching her? "Yes?"

"Er –." A sudden fear overcame him that stopped him from speaking. He wasn't ready. Not yet. "Could you make me a cup of tea? Bring it to my study."

Hermione internally rolled her eyes and stumbled to the kitchen, dizzy with exhaustion. Was he so lazy that he couldn't spare her this one small task without adding it to her endless list?

She unceremoniously set down a tray in front of Draco five minutes later.

"Your tea."

"Oh," he said, looking up from a book. "Thank you, Granger."

Hermione froze, not quite believing her ears. "What did you say?"

"Thank you," he repeated, stretching his lips into a half-smile that made a light shade of pink colour Hermione's cheeks.

"Oh," she said, wondering if she ought to feel suspicious about this. She turned to walk away but stumbled, her vision momentarily blacking out.

"Granger?" Draco looked around to see Hermione swaying on the spot, shocking even himself at the concern in his voice. "Are you alright?"

"What do you care?" Hermione mumbled, feeling too awful to care about potentially being hexed by Malfoy for her attitude. She wheeled around, regarding him with an unfocused gaze. "You're the one who…"

Hermione felt her knees give way, and she collapsed unconscious to the floor.

"Shit." What had he done?

* * *

It would be an understatement to say Hermione was confused when she woke up two hours later. Draco launched almost immediately into a speech about how he'd been made a social outcast by a town of Muggles a few years ago simply because they feared him for his magic. Apparently, he'd snapped from the loneliness and ended up hurting people. He told her that his loathing of Muggles had stemmed from this experience, which led to him being imprisoned in his own home, isolated once again.

"Why are you telling me this?" Hermione asked when Draco finally paused for breath, utterly bewildered to see this new side of him.

"Because I misjudged you," he replied solemnly. "I assumed you'd be just like the rest, and I mistreated you because of it. But you're not like them. To keep a long story short, I began to value having you as company, and I ended up overworking you because I feared being rejected again if I were to talk to you properly." He took a deep breath before finally saying, "I'm sorry, Hermione. For everything."

She was lost for words and sat in stunned silence for several minutes as she tried to process everything she'd just been told. She didn't know what to believe: the folk tale hadn't mentioned any of the details Draco had just told her, but then, she didn't know what he had to gain from making this up.

Draco held his breath as he waited for her reply. He would never admit it, but the sceptical expression on her face made his heart hurt.

"Thank you," Hermione said finally, "for telling me all of this. I had no idea."

"Forget it," Draco said. He couldn't bring himself to look at her after baring his soul like that. Feeling extremely embarrassed, he left the room without another word.

* * *

Draco spent the next day doing everything in his power to earn Hermione's forgiveness. He was fairly certain she understood why he acted like he did, but he didn't want to take any chances; the thought of her not wanting anything to do with him was unbearable.

Despite conjuring up a huge bouquet of flowers to sit at her bedside, and releasing her from her duty as servant, he found that what made her smile the most were the silly, small things he didn't think were a big deal, having forgotten about the power they could have. Hermione had been grateful when he offered her a dose of Sleeping Draught so she could rest, and had beamed like he had never seen before when he brought up _'The Book of Charms & Spells_' from the library. "Noticed you'd had a snoop through this last week," he'd said as he handed it over, smiling when Hermione flushed with embarrassment. She couldn't say that she entirely forgave him for how he'd initially treated her, but she was starting to like the real Draco, and as the days passed, the thought of escaping had almost vanished from her mind completely.

They spent many evenings curled up on the sofa together, with Draco providing an ecstatic Hermione with more books and telling her about various aspects of magic, demonstrating spells for her entertainment as he did so. She laughed so hard one night when he shrunk his head down to the size of a tomato, and then enlarged it to the size of a beach ball that he couldn't help but laugh too. It was an odd thing for Hermione to behold, and she was surprised to feel her stomach flutter when he smiled at her, small crinkles framing his grey eyes.

"It's getting late," he said softly as their mirth subsided. It felt all too soon, and Hermione did her best to hide her disappointment as she nodded. She met his gaze, and time seemed to stop in the silence that followed.

"Sleep well." Draco finally broke eye contact, bidding her goodnight, and stood up to leave the room, unaware of the way Hermione's heart jumped in her throat when his hand accidentally-on-purpose grazed hers.

* * *

Draco went to bed feeling happier than he had in years, and was woken the next morning by a knock on his bedroom door. The weather had finally improved, and since Hermione hadn't been outside since she'd arrived at the manor, the two of them spent the morning strolling through the gardens, chatting amicably about Potions and Quidditch. Hermione knew next to nothing about that stuff, but she enjoyed listening. She smiled at the way Draco spoke so passionately about the subjects, realising it must have been months, maybe even years, since he last had someone to discuss them with.

Her smile fell, however, when she looked up and saw the wrought-iron gates at the end of the path, and was hit with a barrage of memories of the night she first came here.

"Hermione? What's wrong?" Draco frowned, noticing that she had fallen unusually quiet.

She didn't answer. She continued to stare at the gates, tears prickling her eyes as she thought about how worried her dad must be. Draco followed her gaze and felt his stomach clench. He'd almost forgotten that she had family out there.

"You're missing your father." He didn't phrase it as a question, but Hermione nodded.

With a heavy heart, Draco realised that she would never truly forgive him for what he'd done, or truly care for him until he put things right. After taking a couple of minutes to steel himself, he finally forced out the four words he was sure he'd regret saying for the rest of his life.

"Go back to him."

"What?" Hermione's attention was finally pulled from the gates, and she looked up at him with shining brown eyes.

"Go. Find your dad. Forget about me." Tears were threatening to spill from his own eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

"But –." Hermione looked from him to the gates and back again, her heart torn. "All the things you told me… You'll be alone again."

"Don't worry about me," Draco said, wishing she would stop prolonging the inevitable. "It's my fault you're apart in the first place."

Hermione did not reply, and the two of them silently regarded one another for a while before she threw her arms around Draco's neck and embraced him tightly.

"I won't forget you, Draco," Hermione whispered through her sobs. "Thank you."

Draco hugged her back, unable to speak, and the two of them remained wrapped in each other's arms until Hermione finally broke the embrace, realising that the longer she held on, the more difficult this was going to be.

It took everything Draco had not to run after her when she walked away from him. But with a heavy heart he knew that, for the first time in his life, he'd done the right thing. If you loved someone, you had to let them go.

* * *

 **A/N:** This was something a little different for me, but I hope you enjoyed this! Comments are always appreciated :)


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